5 times that Nathaniel was in trouble
by TheFigureInTheCorner
Summary: ... and the one time it was Castiel. Series of one-shots.
1. in which flowers almost kill Nathaniel

Every year it was something different. Every year, Castiel would pull an even more extravagant prank for April Fools' day.

One year Nathaniel had walked into the Student Council room to find water being dumped on his head, followed by a large metal bucket.

Another year the furniture had been glued to the ceiling, upside-down.

That had actually impressed Nathaniel. It had been annoying, yes, but impressive.

He was pretty sure Castiel knew that, too.

Last year, the walls in the Student Council room were covered in vulgar images. He could hear Castiel's laughter from down the hallway as he had slammed the door and walked out, beet red.

Castiel had been suspended for two weeks. He came back, still chuckling whenever he saw Nathaniel for months afterwards.

This year was just plain bad.

The other years had been relatively harmless fun. They'd taken a while to clean up after, but they hadn't actually hurt anybody.

This year Castiel's prank had almost killed him.

When he walked into the Student Council room, he began sneezing almost immediately. His eyes began to water and swell up a bit. The reason was immediately obvious.

The Student Council room was filled wall-to-wall with flowers.

He sighed, feeling around in his pocket for his allergy medicine.

Of course.

Today, of all days, he'd forgotten it at home.

He groaned, figuring he may as well carry the plants back out to the gardening club. The club members would be wondering where their plants went, and the sooner the plants were out the sooner his allergies would die down.

Of course, that was only if he didn't have too bad of a reaction.

And, just his luck, he did.

The pollen concentration in the room was really high from how many flowers were in the room, especially since they'd been in the closed room for nearly 24 hours.

He slowly found that he wasn't able to breathe through his nose, since it had gotten so congested, and his eyes had gotten so puffy and watery he could barely see.

Castiel was probably having a field day at how awful he looked.

He continued going back and forth between the Student Council room and the greenhouse, carrying the infernal potted plants outside.

By the seventh trip, however, his throat had begun to close up. He frowned, making one last trip. As he was walking back to the Student Council room this time, however, he found that his throat was beginning to close up completely. He wheezed, frowning as he tried to draw air in.

Castiel picked that moment to show himself.

He emerged from his hiding spot in Classroom A, watching with mild concern as Nathaniel stood there, struggling to breathe.

"You alright there, Golden Boy?" he asked, trying and failing to sound indifferent.

Nathaniel shook his head. He was beginning to feel a bit dizzy.

Castiel walked over, frowning at the wheezing noises coming from Nathaniel. "Are you dying?"

Nathaniel nodded slightly. "Might... be..." He choked out.

Oh.

That could be bad.

Castiel's eyebrows furrowed together as he tried to figure out what to do. There wouldn't be many people at the school at this point and Nathaniel couldn't breathe and he hadn't actually anticipated this outcome.

And then Nathaniel passed out.

Castiel cursed, gritting his teeth as he caught Nathaniel and lowered him to the ground. "Is anyone still in the school? Because we need some help here!"

Lysander showed up. _Ah,_ Castiel thought, _right_._ It's his turn to set up the basement for practice today._

"What happened?" Lysander asked, staring first at Nathaniel's unconscious form, then at Castiel.

"I might have possibly put several hundred flowers in the Student Council room as an April Fools' joke," Castiel said slowly, "and he might possibly have started having a serious allergic reaction..."

Lysander frowned, kneeling beside Castiel and Nathaniel and checking for Nathaniel's pulse. "You're an idiot, first of all," he said, addressing Castiel. Castiel looked away, pouting slightly. "Second, he's still alive, but he needs to get to a hospital, and I'm going to drive him, and you're coming too."

Castiel halfheartedly grumbled out a "fineee," standing up and following Lysander as he carried Nathaniel out of the school and laid him down across the backseat of his car.

Castiel got in on the passenger side, occasionally glancing back at Nathaniel in the rear view mirror. Lysander smiled to himself, pretending not to notice Castiel's obvious concern for his rival.

They brought Nathaniel into the hospital, where he was carried away on a hospital bed while the two of them answered various questions- yes, it was an allergic reaction; he's allergic to pollen; no, we're not joking, he's actually _that_ allergic.

They were allowed to visit Nathaniel a bit later, when the doctors had cleared up his airway and he was breathing properly again.

Nobody really said anything for a while. Nathaniel just stared at Castiel from the bed, and Castiel just stood there awkwardly. Finally, Castiel mumbled something, too quietly for Nathaniel and Lysander to hear.

"Can you repeat that?"

"I said I'm sorry," Castiel growled, a bit louder.

"I almost died and all you can do is just give me an insincere apology," Nathaniel deadpanned. Lysander began to inch out of the room.

"Okay, no, look, I didn't know- I was just trying to pull a prank, and I didn't know your allergies were that bad and I didn't expect you to forget your medicine and all the other things that you did wrong," Castiel said, glaring at him. "I just stuck a bunch of flowers in the student council room. You did the rest."

Nathaniel shrugged. "Yeah, but you were still the catalyst."

Castiel groaned. "Well, you're not dead!" Castiel twirled a finger through the air in mock celebration. "Whoop-de-flipping-do! But of course, you just have to start something. I'm trying to apologize for almost getting you killed here and you just _have_ to make things difficult!"

"I'm not the one-"

"Forget it," Castiel said, turning to leave. He started to tell Lysander to follow him, then realized Lysander must have escaped the room.

Shaking his head, he walked out of the room, not caring when the door slammed shut behind him and caused the hospital staff to look at him disapprovingly.


	2. in which Castiel sees the bruises

Castiel saw the bruises.

It was completely unintentional. He had gym last period and he always had to get dressed quickly before the basketball club met and the gym teacher had him stay after class to discuss his sudden decrease in endurance (which wasn't his fault- he was beginning to think he'd cracked a few ribs) and he'd had less time to change today.

Castiel was the first person to walk in for the club meeting. He always was, since he hung out in the courtyard so often. Nathaniel had just reached for his shirt when he heard footsteps behind him.

And of all people, it just _had_ to be Castiel.

Just his luck.

Castiel wasn't glaring at him, which was a first. Castiel was just staring at him. He looked like he'd about to make some biting remark, but he'd cut himself off. Now his mouth hung slightly open, and his expression ranged from shock to anger to confusion.

Finally, he shook his head, closing his eyes and slipping into that indifferent mask of his.

"You're not going to ask?" Nathaniel asked, sliding his shirt over his head. He was surprised at how steady his voice was, considering how quickly his heart was beating.

"Hey, no, I want to ask," Castiel said, frowning. "But I think if I do you'll just give some stupid answer like 'oh, I just fell down the stairs-'" His voice went into a mocking falsetto as he said that, and Nathaniel cut him off with an indignant (and embarrassingly high-pitched) "I don't sound like that," but Castiel kept going.

"-And quite frankly, I don't wanna hear it. So I'm just gonna change, forget I ever saw this, and leave. But, Nathaniel-" he said, suddenly serious. "I hate you."

"What else is new?" Nathaniel grumbled.

"But I don't-" he groaned, muttering something under his breath.

"What was that?"

"I said I don't want you to actually get hurt," Castiel said, a bit louder.

"Mhmm. That's why you start fistfights with me in the hallways and pull my chair out from under me when I'm about to sit down and fill the entire student council room with flowers on April Fools' day so that I have to be sent home because I have allergic reactions so bad that I can't breathe."

"Hey, no, that last one was unintentional. I didn't realize your allergies were that bad. I thought you'd just be a bit puffy eyed and sniffly the rest of the day." He paused for a bit, looking at his feet. "Sorry again for almost killing you by the way."

"I almost believe you," Nathaniel scoffed, glancing at the clock on the far wall. "Oh, shoot," he said, grabbing his bag and shoving past Castiel. "My dad's gonna kill me..."

Castiel stared after him, frowning.

Where had those bruises come from?

_It's not because you're worried,_ Castiel told himself as he followed Nathaniel home, ditching the basketball club. _Just curiosity._

Nathaniel walked into a house at the far end of the street. Castiel raised his eyebrows- that was a really big house.

Or maybe it was just because he'd grown up in an apartment.

He sat outside the house, under one of the windows, hidden from view by some nicely-trimmed hedges.

He heard shouting from inside, the voice of a man he hadn't heard before- Nathaniel's dad, he assumed. He couldn't quite make out the words, but it wasn't concerned parent yelling; the yelling was angry.

The yelling stopped suddenly; Nathaniel was saying something back, probably.

And then something glass shattered from inside the house.

Castiel launched himself up, peeking through a gap in the window curtains. There, on the ground, was Nathaniel, surrounded by broken porcelain and with a huge gash on his forehead. He wasn't unconscious; he was propping himself up on his elbows.

Castiel had seen enough.

He ran around to the front of the house. The door was unlocked, luckily- Nathaniel must have forgotten to lock it, or maybe he hasn't had time to when his dad had started yelling.

Yeah, he hated Nathaniel.

But not enough to let him get killed.

He followed the sound of the yelling and found himself in a kitchen. Nathaniel was still lying on the ground, his father holding a glass bottle and standing over him threateningly.

"Hey!" Castiel yelled, running over and pulling the man away from Nathaniel. Belatedly he realized that Nathaniel's father was a good foot taller than him and probably a lot stronger. He pushed Castiel off with very little effort, and he fell to the ground with a grunt.

He rolled out of the way just as the bottle came sailing down- not at Nathaniel this time, but himself.

Putting his weight on his arms, he kicked his legs out, hitting the man's shins and pulling his legs out from under him. On the way down, Nathaniel's dad hit his head on a counter. He landed on the tile floor, dazed but not out yet.

Castiel helped Nathaniel up. The two ran out of the kitchen, glass shards crunching under their shoes, and out of the house, and down a few blocks until they were sure they were a safe distance away.

They stood there for a moment, catching their breath.

"Hey, Castiel?"

"Hm?"

"I forgive you for the flower incident."

"About time."


	3. in which Castiel just wants the roof key

Nathaniel had never been an extremely coordinated person. Orderly, yes, but clumsy like you'd never seen before.

He hated gym.

His hatred didn't lessen any when he misstepped, landing on his ankle with a resounding _crack._

He fell as pain shot up his leg, radiating from his ankle in waves.

"You alright?" Someone asked- he didn't know them, but they had been closes when he fell. He nodded, pushing himself up.

Tentatively, he put weight on his ankle, nearly falling again when he did.

"Actually no," he said, looking up. But the person had already gone back to the soccer game.

He groaned, looking around.

Of course the only person close enough to hear him was Castiel.

"Castiel," he hissed. The redhead had his earbuds in, ignoring him. He tried again, louder. "Castiel!"

Castiel took out one of his earbuds, looking up with a bored expression.

"What is it, Golden Boy?"

"I need you to help me with this," he said, gesturing to his quickly swelling ankle. Castiel rolled his eyes, standing from his spot on the sidelines and walking over. Wordlessly, he slung Nathaniel's arm over his shoulders.

"And what's in it for me?"

Nathaniel huffed, thinking for a moment. "I'll give you the keys to the roof back."

Castiel thought it over for a moment. "Fine," he conceded, and after notifying the teacher of where they were going, they made their way to the school nurse's office.

She wrapped his ankle and put some ice on it, nodding for Castiel to leave. He didn't waste another second, turning on one heel and walking quickly back to gym class.

Nathaniel was an idiot.


	4. in which lakes hate Nathaniel

"So," Nathaniel said, staring at Castiel. "It seems we're stuck being paired up for this thing."

Castiel groaned.

They sat as far away from each other as humanly possible on the bus ride, each glaring out their windows and scaring half the ninth graders and a couple of the tenth. The eleventh and twelfth graders were used to them by now.

They eventually pulled into the parking lot at the edge of the forest, and kids exited the bus, meeting up with their partners to be handed a map.

"I'm keeping the map," Nathaniel said, snatching it before Castiel could say anything. "I don't trust you with it."

"Let me see the map," Castiel said, snatching it from Nathaniel. Nathaniel hadn't lost their map, at the very least.

He also couldn't read the map.

Nathaniel looked like he wanted to protest, but then closed his mouth, realizing that they'd been going around in circles for the last half hour.

Castiel stared at the map for a bit, looking up occasionally to see if he could figure out where they were. Finally he just sighed, folding the map up and shoving it at Nathaniel.

"Way to go, Prez," he grumbled. "You didn't just get us on the wrong path; we aren't even on a path."

"Well," Nathaniel said, looking around. "Maybe we can try to find one of the paths?"

"That's all we really can do," Castiel said reluctantly. He began walking away. "We can't exactly just stand here doing nothing."

Nathaniel shrugged, following Castiel.

They came across a lake.

There were some tall rocks around the lake, smooth and covered in moss.

"I think I might try climbing up on one of those," Nathaniel said. Castiel held up a hand.

"Wait a second," he said. "Lakes are good landmarks." He pulled out the map, skimming it for a lake. When he didn't see one, he groaned in frustration.

"Now we're not even on the map," he said, staring at it as if that would make a lake appear. "There's no lake." He paused. "You can go climb your rock now."

And Nathaniel did, careful not to slip on the moss.

But evidently not careful enough.

He toppled into the lake with a surprised yelp, fingers catching on the slippery moss but not finding any purchase.

Castiel laughed, finding the whole ordeal pretty hilarious. And it was, for a bit.

And then he realized Nathaniel wasn't surfacing.

"Nathaniel?" He asked, peering into the water. His blond head was visible just a foot or so beneath the surface. But he wasn't moving or anything; not like he was drowning, or couldn't swim, or whatever.

He was just- floating there.

Castiel swore, throwing off his jacket and yanking off his pants and shoes for good measure, trying to lessen the weight he'd have dragging on him. He dove into the lake, swimming over to Nathaniel and hooking his arms under Nathaniel's armpits.

He kicked for the surface, flipping onto his back so that Nathaniel's head would be out of the water before moving back to the shore.

Dragging Nathaniel back onto the pebbles surrounding the lake, he noticed that Nathaniel's chest was eerily still.

Letting out a string of curses, he held a hand under Nathaniel's nose, feeling no air, he began to press down on Nathaniel's chest. He was by no means a doctor but he'd seen this done before and quite frankly it was this or nothing.

He didn't have much to lose by trying.

He reached thirty or so and paused, frowning. Wasn't that where you were supposed to do the breathing thingy?

Rolling his eyes, he pinched Nathaniel's nose and exhaled, hard, causing Nathaniel's chest to rise just slightly. He was about to try again when the blond jerked, rolling onto his side and hacking up a stream of water.

Castiel sat back on his heels, breathing hard. Nathaniel stared at him for a moment when he'd caught his breath.

"You're not wearing any pants," he rasped, blinking. Castiel nodded. "You're soaking wet."

"Thank you, President Obvious."

"It's captain obvious."

"Not for you, Prez."

Nathaniel rolled his eyes. Something seemed to hit him just them. He glared at Castiel. "Please tell me you didn't kiss me."

"I didn't," Castiel said, shrugging. "Ever heard of CPR?"

"I'm probably going to get twenty different types of cancer from your smoking habits."

"Are there even that many types of cancer?" Castiel said, quirking an eyebrow. "Also I don't smoke that much. And it doesn't even work like that."

"Whatever."


	5. in which Nathaniel is hot in a bad way

Nathaniel sneezed.

Castiel frowned from the back of the classroom. He had been trying to sleep.

The teacher stopped in the middle of her sentence, looking at Nathaniel.

"Are you okay?" She asked. He nodded, and the teacher shrugged and went back to her lecture on "how _wonderful_ math is,' and 'Castiel, are you listening to me?' and 'Castiel, I know you're sleeping back there. Go to the principal's office.'

And he walked out happily, spared from the rest of the lecture on how beautiful trigonometry can be, but not to go to the principal's office. He went to sit in the courtyard instead, popping his headphones in his ears and closing his eyes as he leaned his head against the tree.

Nathaniel found him.

Castiel had just been dozing off when suddenly his earbuds were ripped rudely from his ears. He gave a noncommittal noise of annoyance, glaring up at Nathaniel.

"You were supposed to go to the principal's office," Nathaniel said, returning his glare. His voice sounded nasally.

"Eh. Courtyard was closer."

Nathaniel rubbed the bridge of his nose in exasperation. "You're impossible."

"You're just saying that 'cause you know you want me."

"You had better not start quoting Justin Bieber songs at me."

"... That was unintentional."

Nathaniel opened his mouth to respond, but instead broke off into a coughing fit that lasted for around thirty seconds.

"Hey, don't get me sick," Castiel said, backing away. He frowned. "Actually go ahead. I won't have to go to school."

Nathaniel shook his head, coughing again. He cleared his throat before speaking up again. "I'm not sick."

"The sky is green."

"I swear, I'm not," Nathaniel said, getting up to walk away. "Just- allergies."

"In the middle of winter?"

"M'not sick."

And then Castiel's hand was on his face.

Nathaniel jerked away, staring at Castiel like he was an alien species. "What are you doing?"

"You're sick. You have a fever."

"Okay, but I'm not going home. You've seen my dad," Nathaniel muttered. Castiel shrugged.

"Suit yourself."

Nathaniel ended up going down to the nurse's office during fourth period. He had stood up to turn a paper in and nearly passed out.

Castiel had been half asleep again when it happened, so, of course, the teacher had decided he'd be a perfect candidate to help Nathaniel get down to the nurse's office.

"How many times am I going to end up stuck in a hallway with you passing out on me?" Castiel grumbled, kicking at the ground. Nathaniel didn't hear him, the blood pounding in his ears from his splitting headache. He rubbed at his temples, frowning when his vision darkened again. He stumbled.

Castiel caught him by the shoulders with a surprised "hey!"

"Sorry," Nathaniel murmured, his speech slurring slightly. Castiel felt Nathaniel's face again, giving a small gasp.

"Golden Boy, that is definitely not a normal temperature. How are you even conscious?"

"Not..." Nathaniel trailed off, staring at something in the distance, or maybe nothing in particular. Castiel's eyebrows furrowed.

"Really? We're this close to the nurse's office and you're doing this now?" Huffing, he dragged Nathaniel to the nurse's office by his upper arms, quickly making it appear as though he'd been helping Nathaniel walk before opening the door to the nurse's office.

The school nurse glanced questioningly at Nathaniel.

"Fever," Castiel supplied. She rushed over, taking Nathaniel from Castiel and laying him down on one of the crappy plastic-coated cots. She pressed a thermometer to Nathaniel's temple, frowning as she read it.

"It's nearly 104 degrees," she said, wetting some paper towels and placing one over Nathaniel's eyes, one on his forehead, and one on his neck.

"He's definitely going home," she murmured. Castiel tensed.

"That's not a good idea. His parents work until pretty late and they have meetings tonight," he lied smoothly. She looked at Nathaniel's flushed face.

"You're the emancipated one," she said, turning to Castiel. "Take him to a hospital or something. I'll call down to your classes to excuse you."

Castiel groaned inwardly. Outwardly he just forced a grin. She'd probably call Nathaniel's parents if she thought Castiel would strangle Nathaniel.

"You got it."

Well at least he was getting out of school.

Nathaniel had some kind of infection from something or other; Castiel hadn't really been paying attention. It was an ear infection or something that'd spread, he was pretty sure.

He was put on some antibiotic mix and sent home a day later.

That didn't mean he actually went home; Castiel had pretty much just forced him to stay at his apartment until he was well enough to not get himself killed by his dad.

"They'll be so caught up in the 'where were you's that my dad won't do anything about my being gone for a few days," Nathaniel reasoned, eyes half lidded as he laid back on Castiel's couch.

And he had been right.

And Castiel was glad about that.


	6. in which Castiel doesn't see the car

Nathaniel saw the car coming around the corner.

Castiel didn't.

It would have been so easy to just let him get hit by the car.

But of course there was that instinct to just run and push him away. Castiel stood there frozen, staring at the oncoming car, and suddenly Nathaniel was sprinting over and then he was in so much _pain_ and vaguely he thought he heard someone say his name but he wasn't sure and he laid there on his back staring up at the sky through the haze that was clouding his mind.

And then he saw a shock of red hair and someone's face staring down at him with a mix of anger and concern and guilt and apology and he knew this person and for the life of him he couldn't remember their name but their mouth was moving and saying something-

And then it was dark.

"Dang it, Nathaniel," Castiel hissed, staring as blood pooled under the student council president's blond head.

People around them were gasping and exclaiming. Cars were pulling over, honking angrily, the drivers getting out to see what the hold-up was. He heard sirens off in the distance, getting closer with the passing seconds.

Castiel's hands hovered uselessly over Nathaniel, unsure of what to do. Should he try to stop the bleeding? No, Nathaniel's limbs were sticking out at odd angles, touching him would make any broken bones worse.

But there was so much blood...

Before he could dwell on the thought, there were people pulling him gently away from Nathaniel. He let them, as Nathaniel was placed on a bed and driven off to a hospital.

And he stood there in the middle of the road, just staring as the ambulance drove off into the distance, as a paramedic draped a blindingly bright orange blanket over his shoulders. He blinked, shrugging the blanket off immediately- it was a hot day out, he had even ditched his usual leather jacket, he didn't need a blanket.

He wanted to go home. He wanted to just lie down and try to figure out why in the heck Nathaniel had thought he was suddenly worth saving.

He didn't.

Instead, he walked aimlessly- or he thought he was walking aimlessly, at the very least.

He soon found himself pacing the hospital waiting room. More than a few people were fidgeting uncomfortably from the aura of impatience he was emitting, but he didn't really care.

Eventually he went up to the front desk and asked again if he could see Nathaniel Harrison.

The receptionist sighed, obviously getting annoyed with his incessant asking.

"Look, kid," she said, "I get that you're worried about your friend or brother or boyfriend or whatever this guy is to you, but y'know, asking ten times within an hour isn't going to help anything. Just go sit in the waiting room and we'll get you when he's out of surgery. M'kay?" She smiled with fake sweetness at the end. Castiel rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath as he made his way back.

He wasn't really certain when he fell asleep, exactly. Blearily he looked up at the sound of his name being called.

"Oh, yeah, wait, that's me," Castiel stand, waving lazily. The nurse motioned for him to follow, leading him up a few floors and down a few hallways.

And then they were in a room and Golden Boy was sitting in bed, staring at Castiel. There was a cast on both his right arm and right leg, and he had bandages wrapped around his head and chest, and he looked like crap, really.

He sat in the hard plastic chair next to Nathaniel's bed, and for a long while they just stared at each other in silence.

Finally Castiel spoke.

"Why?"

That was all he said, but Nathaniel knew what he meant.

"Because it'd be pretty boring without you screwing around."

Castiel snorted. "Still should've been me," he muttered.

"What was that?"

"Hm- nothing."


End file.
